


Secrets and Sacrifices

by TheShatteredRose



Category: Etrian Odyssey Series, 新・世界樹の迷宮2 ファフニールの騎士 | Etrian Odyssey Untold 2: The Fafnir Knight
Genre: Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Spoilers, Violence, mention of dark rituals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-06-09 04:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6889657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShatteredRose/pseuds/TheShatteredRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with Flavio dealing with a jerk who wouldn't take no for an answer. The next thing he knew he's been kidnapped and held captive. And if that wasn't bad enough, he's also going to be used as an offering in a ritual to summon a dragon! The last few days have not been the best, that's for sure...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ...Don't judge me. I couldn't help myself. I have the freedom to write whatever I want. And I'm using it. Slight understanding of the story will be useful as I've tried to keep spoilers to a minimum, but I guess it’s not entirely necessary…?
> 
> Short chapters, short story. I’ve been dying to do something like this for a while now. Just flexing my muscles, I suppose. Anyway, enjoy!

After the defeat of the Ice Princess, the opening up of the fourth stratum, the beautiful Petal Bridge, and…and the events at Ginnungagap, Fafnir decided that everyone needed a well-deserved rest. A day or two off to recharge and get ready for the many battles ahead. And to, well, simply be together again and try to find a small sense of normality after a forced separation.

Sitting at a table at the bar, one that seemed reserved just for them, Flavio did what was second nature to him; cautiously scan their surroundings. He could hear a few of the bar patrons gossiping amongst themselves. Most of them, however, were talking about them, about how they managed to get past the strange ‘incidents’ on the fourteenth floor and make it to the fourth stratum. Higher and further than any guild. Officially, at least.

They were simply known as the Midgard Library Guild and, well, that was their guild name anyway. Midgard Guild. Ok, so they weren’t very good at coming up with names. So what? They hadn’t anticipated in creating a guild in the first place!

So much had happened since arriving in High Lagaard that it was becoming increasingly hard for Flavio to keep up with it all. He was doing his best, though. For Fafnir’s sake.

Turning his attention back toward his guildmates, Flavio couldn’t help but feel a light frown tug at his lips. He really had more important things to think about. But with Fafnir’s full attention on Arianna as she talked and Bertrand keeping a watchful gaze on Chloe as she ate, Flavio abruptly remembered something. Something that made his chest ache painfully.

However, it was something he had known about for quite some time now.

He was the odd one out.

“Oi, kid,” Bertrand said as he suddenly nudged him with his elbow. “Get Cass to get us more drinks, yeah?”

“I’m not your servant,” Flavio said with a half-hearted glare, but he pushed his chair back and climbed to his feet nonetheless. He already felt like the fifth wheel. He didn’t need to be seen as one as well.

Ever since Fafnir and Arianna remembered their meeting many years ago when they were just children, Arianna had been insisting that they spend more time together. In order to see if there were any other memories that could be useful for them in their current circumstance. At first Flavio also participated in these talks, but he felt as if he was somehow intruding, so started making excuses.

They were…growing quite close. Romantic even. Probably. Envied by many others.

Flavio always knew that one day it would happen. They may have grown up together, but Fafnir had always been better, stronger and more talented than he was. He never could keep up, let alone match him. He always knew (and feared) that Fafnir would get so strong, too useful, that he would leave him behind.

But it was for the best, right? Fafnir getting close to other people. Fafnir didn’t need him anymore. Not with Arianna. Not with Bertrand. The two of them…would be able to better understand Fafnir more than Flavio could ever hope to do.

“Be with yeh in a sec,” Cass said in his usually rough and terse manner. “Got to deal with this idiot, first.”

Flavio simply nodded his head as he folded his arms atop of the bar, glancing from the corner of his eye at the drunk patron slumped against the bar. “Take your time,” he said as he abruptly returned to his thoughts.

It was only a matter of time, right? Fafnir was her knight, after all. Arianna had chosen him when they were just kids. Besides, who wouldn’t fall for a princess? Arianna was pretty, polite and talented. Cheerful, even if she was a bit airy. Even if she couldn’t read the atmosphere. She was a nice, good girl.

Still…

Flavio unintentionally sighed aloud. He had been trying not to feel resentment toward Arianna. It wasn’t her fault that Fafnir had to carry such heavy burdens of being a Fafnir Knight. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Not on purpose. Never intentionally. She had been suffering, too, from the legend of the Fafnir Knight.

But there was a part of him, a small part that he tried to squish down every time it arose, blamed the princess for the pain that Fafnir was going through and he felt bitter that she was constantly pushing her way closer to him.

Unfair and unreasonable. He knew it was. He didn’t like feeling that way. Feeling such negative emotions. He didn’t hate Arianna. Not at all.

It was just…hard. For years it had been him and Fafnir. The two of them surviving together. Fafnir doing all the heavy work while Flavio did all the nurturing and caring. No one really knew, but that Fafnir could be such a slob sometimes. He was always far too truthful at the worst of times. Take when he first met Minister Dubois. Instead of introducing himself, he chose to comment on his beard!

Of course, Flavio flailed in trying to explain to Minister Dubois that Fafnir was just joking and not to take him seriously. And Fafnir, that jerk, was smirking the entire time. He totally did that on purpose.

Again, Flavio sighed as he spared a glance over at their table, to see Fafnir and Arianna still talking intently. He wanted to be a martyr and step back, ease himself away from Fafnir so that he wouldn’t feel guilty, wouldn’t feel obligated to stay with him. He wanted to leave Fafnir in Arianna’s hands, give the two his blessing.

Augh, as if he could! He loved him too much. He can’t help but fuss over that idiot. It was in his bones. Fafnir can’t, for the life of him, take care of himself. Flavio had being guiding him for far too long to simply step aside now. Even if it was the best thing to do for everyone involved.

“Oh, excuse me.”

Flavio straightened when he felt someone bump into him. Immediately pulling himself out of his thoughts, he turned to see a man a few years older than he standing next to him, looking apologetic. He was quite tall and had a strong build. His hair was a sandy blond, pulled back into a low ponytail at the base of his neck. His eyes were a dark blue and he had a roughly shaved, somewhat rugged look to him. He looked like a handsome man. He was probably a big hit with the ladies.

“Sorry for bumping into you,” he said as he shuffled awkwardly on his feet.

“Oh, no problem,” Flavio said, giving the other man a reassuring smile. “No harm done.”

The man looked relieved. “I’m Ascott,” he introduced himself as he leaned casually against the bar next to him. “I’m new here, I’m afraid. Are you a local?”

Flavio made a slight movement with his hand. “Sort of. I am a legal citizen.”

“Ah, an explorer then?” Ascott said with a somewhat sagely nod of his head.

The guy suddenly paused and seemed to stare at him. Getting a real good look at him, which made Flavio instantly nervous. What was he looking at? He wasn’t sizing him up to rob him or something, was he?

“I suppose you get told this all the time,” the guy, Ascott, said with a grin that appeared somewhat shy but charming nonetheless. “But you’re really beautiful.”

Flavio blinked. No, no one had ever told him that before!

The guy must be drunk.

“Oh, ah, thank you,” Flavio murmured, not entirely sure on how he should respond, if at all, to an obviously drunk man. “I guess…?”

“You didn’t tell me your name,” Ascott suddenly commented. “You do have one, right? Unless you’re happy with me calling you Beautiful all night.”

Flavio raise an eyebrow. Ok, that was sorta smooth. The guy was either a very charming drunk or he was a habitual flirt and was trying to chat him up. Why? Who knows? Must be a dare or something.

“It’s Flavio,” he said, introducing himself quickly. “And, sorry, my guild is waiting for me.”

Ascott looked pitifully disappointed. “Can’t you stay and chat for a while?” he practically purred at him.

“Only until Cass gets my drinks,” Flavio retorted, glancing over at the bar-keep to find him arguing with another patron, one who seemed surprisingly sober. What they were arguing about, he could only speculate, but it seemed that the patron was lecturing Cass on something. If the notable twitch of his right eyebrow was anything to go by.

“You know, it’s a shame that a natural beauty like you is alone,” Ascott unexpectedly said, causing Flavio to turn his attention back toward him, a slight frown on his lips. “Ah, but that’s what happens when a princess is involved, isn’t it?”

“Some things can’t be helped, I suppose,” Flavio muttered in return, his frown only deepening as he felt uneasy. How did he know about a certain princess? “I better get back to my guild,” he said as he turned to push away from the bar.

“If you can’t stay, maybe tomorrow you could show me around town?” Ascott suddenly suggested.

Before Flavio could turn around to regard the suspicious charmer, Ascott snared him by his wrist, turning him around and pulling him uncomfortable close toward him. “I’d like to get to know you better.”

Flavio instantly tried to pull his arm back, gripping at the bar with the other to give himself some kind of leverage. But the guy was surprisingly strong. “Sorry, I’m busy,” he said firmly.

“There’s no need to be so skittish, Beautiful,” Ascott said, his charming grin taking on an almost predatory feel to it.

“Let go,” Flavio demanded as he continued to tug at his arm.

Ascott smiled at him. Not a kind smile, but not quite a smirk either. “What if I don’t want to?”

“You will if you want to keep your hand.”

Flavio felt as surprised as Ascott looked when Fafnir’s voice cut through the tension between them. As Ascott released his wrist, Flavio turned to find Fafnir standing right next to him, his eyes narrowed and his presence quite menacing. He then reached an arm toward Flavio, silently pushing him behind him, as if they were in a battle stance or something.

“Ah, sorry,” Ascott said hastily as he pushed away from the bar, an apologetic grin on his lips. “The booze makes me overly confident.”

Fafnir, however, didn’t seem to care what his excuses were. “Leave.”

Without another word, Ascott raised his hands in front of him in a mocking surrender motion as he backed away. He then quickly disappeared amongst the patrons of the bar.

Flavio sighed with relief as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. He felt somewhat guilty that he had pulled Fafnir away from his conversation with Arianna in order to rescue him. From a flirty drunk. Talk about embarrassing.

“Flavio,” Fafnir said his name in a lightly concerned tone as he tore his eyes away from the spot Ascott disappeared in.

“Just some drunkard, Fafnir,” Flavio said in response, hoping to ease his friend’s concern and protectiveness.

“Let me see your arm,” Fafnir suddenly demanded.

Flavio blinked. “My arm?”

“Your wrist,” Fafnir reiterated as he reached out with his hand to physically, but gently, take a hold of his wrist. “Where he grabbed you.”

Flavio sighed. “It’s fine, Fafnir,” he insisted, but allowed his friend to pull back the sleeve covering his wrist nonetheless. He, however, winced when he realised that the skin around his wrist was slightly red. He hadn’t realised that Ascott had grabbed him so harshly.

Fafnir scowled as he tenderly trailed his thumb over the red skin. “Let’s get Chloe to look at it.”

“Fafnir, it’s fine,” Flavio insisted again. Still, he didn’t struggle when the other pulled him back toward the table where the rest of their guild was waiting. Struggling would only prove fruitless, after all. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t argue back. “It’s only slightly red. It’ll fade in a minute or two. It doesn’t even hurt!”

“I don’t care,” Fafnir said as he pushed Flavio back into his seat.

“Fafnir…” Again, Flavio sighed. He couldn’t help but smile, though, when he realised that Fafnir was still holding into his arm. “Talk about stubborn.”

Of course, Fafnir stubbornly ignored him as he tried to get Chloe to stop eating long enough to look at his arm. Still, his protectiveness was what made Fafnir endearing. And it promptly reminded Flavio that while he was always fussing over Fafnir, Fafnir in turn was always protecting him.

Seeing that part of Fafnir hadn’t changed a bit made Flavio feel more relaxed then he had felt in a long time and he immediately pushed the unpleasant encounter to the back of his mind. It wasn’t like he was going to see him again, right?

… … … … …

“We meet again, Beautiful.”

Flavio groaned in annoyance. He was also somewhat surprised. That voice sounded familiar. It was that guy again, wasn’t it? The one from the bar last night.

With a loud sigh, Flavio turned in the direction of the voice to find that, yep, it was Ascott. That far too persistent guy from the bar. He thought he had seen the last of him when Fafnir scared him off.

Dressed in explorer’s gear, clothing akin to those worn by gunners, Ascott stood in the middle of the Regent Café, unconcerned of the chatting diners or the bustling atmosphere of the popular restaurant. He scratched his cheek idly as he all but stared at Flavio, causing him to feel uneasy yet again. He did, however, look somewhat sheepish.

Still, he wasn’t exactly in the mood to fend off a repentant drunk. He was just on his way to the counter to ask Regina if she had any spare rice for his teammates’ meals, who of which were happily munching away at their reserved table, indulging in some quality down time before returning to their mission.

“Sorry about last night, yeah?” Ascott said as he looked surprisingly remorseful. “I tend to become over confident when I have a drink or two,” he explained.

Flavio simply nodded his head. That much was obvious. Anyone who thought he was even remotely ‘beautiful’ had to be roaring drunk.

“Ok, sure,” Flavio said with a small smile as he tried to continue his way.

“How about I make it up to you?” Ascott offered as he once again stepped in Flavio’s way, falling just short of the counter where Regina was busy cooking. “Maybe a dinner together? A few drinks even.”

“Sorry, gonna pass on that,” Flavio said as he took a step to the side, only to find Ascott once again stepping right in front of him. An annoyed tick appeared under his right eye. He was starting to get really quite irritated…

“I’m sure it would be to your benefit if you agree,” Ascott went on to say, that expression that once appeared charming was now smug and over-confident.

“Look, I don’t know what you want,” Flavio started by saying. “But I’m not interested in anything you have to say or offer. You get that? No, to everything.”

“I don’t like it when people say no to me,” Ascott unexpectedly retorted, the flirty, charming expression on his face suddenly darkening.

Regardless of how his unease toward the other was growing, Flavio narrowed his eyes. “No means no,” he said as he defiantly brushed past him. “Get that through your thick head.”

Ascott unexpectedly lashed out with his hand, snaring Flavio by his arm much like he had done the previous night, but the grip was rougher, more menacing. “You don’t seem to understand what’s good for you,” he hissed to him as he unexpectedly tugged him closer toward him.

Flavio felt himself freeze from the ominous words. He winced, however, when Ascott tightened his hand around his arm, gripping painfully tight. Flavio instantly felt even more uneasy by the way the guy was glaring at him, irritated and annoyed that he wasn’t playing along.

What the guy really wanted from him, he didn’t know. And honestly, he didn’t care. He just wanted distance between them.

“Why the cold shoulder?” Ascott unexpectedly asked him. “Your guild doesn’t mind, right? Oh, only when it’s convenient, I suppose they do.”

“What are you talking about?” Flavio asked him surprisingly nervously, blatantly ignoring the possible truth to his words.

Ascott gave him a pitying smile, as if he knew and saw something that he didn’t.

However, before Ascott could say or do anything more, a ladle made out of heavy-duty steel appeared, clocking the guy harshly on the head. A metallic sound rung out as Ascott yelped in pain, instantly releasing his hold on Flavio’s arm. Flavio immediately stumbled back a couple of steps and rubbed his arm where Ascott had gripped him at as he turned to look over at the counter, to where Regina was standing, a ladle in her hand and a scowl on her face.

“What the hell, woman?” Ascott hissed at her as he rubbed his head.

“No touching the goods,” Regina retorted sharply, her expression angrier than usual. “You heard him. He’s not interested. Get out of my café.”

Ascott glared at Regina for a few intense moments, Regina holding his glare with one of her own (which was a lot fiercer, by the way). He then scowled and seemed to mutter something incoherent under his breath before abruptly glancing off to the side, to where Fafnir and the others could be seen eating.

Flavio quickly glanced over as well, watching from the corner of his eye as Fafnir pushed back his chair with a telling, and somewhat ominous, scrape and took to his feet. His face was stoic, but his eyes were narrowed. He wasn’t happy.

“Fine,” Ascott said, almost hastily, causing Flavio to turn to look at him again. “See ya later, Beautiful.”

Flavio found himself bristling in annoyance as Ascott sent him a rather determined smirk before turning on his heel and quickly making for the exit. That guy…was a dick. Seriously. What the hell? He told him no countless times. Why didn’t he get the hint already? Sheesh!

“Flavio?”

“I’m ok,” Flavio immediately replied as he turned to regard Fafnir, finding the other looking mildly annoyed and wholly worried. “Really.”

Fafnir frowned slightly as his eyes flickered in the direction the man disappeared in. “He’s the one from the bar, isn’t he?” he asked as he turned his gaze back to Flavio.

Flavio sighed before nodding his head. “Yeah, unfortunately. He’s name Ascott. Well, that’s what he told me, anyway. Could be fake as far as I know.”

“The bar?” Regina questioned, her face set in her usual resting scowl. “He’s bothered you before?”

Reluctantly, Flavio told the chef what had happened at the bar just last night, about how the guy just wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was so persistent that Fafnir had to intervene. After listening intently, Regina nodded her head and frowned.

“Some admirers are too persistent for their own good,” Regina said as she turned back toward the stove. “Better watch yourself.”

Admirer? Hardly!

“Indeed,” Fafnir muttered before Flavio had the chance to respond. He then took him by the elbow and proceeded to guide him toward the table where the rest of their guild was sitting.

Flavio, however, resisted lightly. “I forgot to ask Regina if she had any more rice,” he said, which was the reason he was at the counter in the first place!

“I’ll get it,” Fafnir said, his grip on his elbow not faltering for a second.

“He’s gone now,” Flavio said, wanting to sigh with exasperation at his friend’s protectiveness, but internally amused by it nonetheless. He had managed to provoke his friend’s protectiveness twice within 24 hours!

“I don’t care,” Fafnir said stubbornly, pushing Flavio into a chair situated next to Bertrand.

“Aren’t you Mister Popular?” Bertrand commented with a smirk as Fafnir all but stalked back to the counter.

Flavio gave the protector next to him a half-hearted glare. “Shut up, Old Man.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much Nao for commenting :3 And every single person who gave kudos! Loves you all~

The fourth stratum was so different from the Frozen Woods that it was almost more startling than beautiful. But it was warm. So much warmer than the floors below. And that was something Flavio was instantly grateful for.

He loathed the cold. Snow and ice in particular. Add in monsters and that was his third worst nightmare (the ultimate would be something terrible happening to Fafnir and the second involved spiders). He especially loathed how Fafnir seemed to be immune to the cold and would wander about freely, while Flavio would be trailing behind him, shivering uncontrollably.

Tearing his gaze from the beautiful and bright foliage of their surroundings, Flavio felt a soft sigh of unwilling exasperation past his lips when he turned his attention to his teammates.

They had paired off. Again.

And, yet again, he was the odd one out.

_Grit your teeth and get used to it_ , Flavio, he reminded himself in his head.

Still, he had to admit that it was understandable. The old man’s relationship with Chloe, like a disgruntled father or uncle family figure was amusing at times. And sweet. Even if Bertrand pretended to be all detached and lazy.

And Fafnir and Arianna were…

…He wasn’t jealous or anything.

W-well, at least he could ensure that they could talk amongst themselves in relatively safety. He just had to do what survivalists did – keep an eye out for everyone. Yeah, he was good at that, too good sometimes to his own chagrin.

…Seriously, though. How long do they expect him to stand back and wait for them to finish talking?

While he was quickly starting to feel awkward just standing in the background and wondering whether or not to approach the two pairs in order to move them on, Flavio felt something shift into his personal space. Right behind him. Tall, breathing and alive.

And they were quick.

Before Flavio had the chance to do anything, like utter a yelp of surprise or spin around to see who or what was right behind him, something akin to a hand was suddenly placed over his mouth as something strong wrapped around his midsection, pinning his arms to his sides.

His breath got caught in his lungs as his bow tumbled from his hand, falling to the ground with a slight thud. He stared at his teammates’ backs when he realised that someone or something was pulling him backwards into the thick foliage of the walls of the fourth stratum.

And no one was reacting.

They didn’t turn around to look. They didn’t even pause in their conversations. Nothing. It was…it happened too quickly.

With his heart thundering in his chest, Flavio stumbled over his own feet as he was roughly pulled through the thick trees and branches of Yggdrasil, realising with a great amount of surprise and alarm that he had been dragged through a shortcut they hadn’t noticed before onto a path he had no idea even existed.

And he could see sky. Blue and cloudless.

The powerful thing that was pinning his arms to his sides suddenly disappeared and he immediately reacted, lifting his hands to desperately tug and pull at what was pressed against his mouth. He soon realised that the thing against his mouth was indeed a hand. One clothed in heavy-duty leather, yet scrappy at the same time.

He, however, stilled when something cold and metal was pressed against his temple.

Peering through the corner of his eye, Flavio all but stopped breathing when he realised that the metal object was actually the barrel of a gun.

“I suggest you play along,” a rough and very human voice suddenly hissed into his ear. “I need you relatively unharmed. But don’t think I won’t retaliate if you try anything.”

Flavio tried to suppress the need to tremble in fear. He had heard that voice before. It…it was that guy. From the bar. And the café. The one that, at first, trying to be charming but could and wouldn’t take no for an answer. That one.

Ascott.

“You had to make this difficult, didn’t you?” Ascott grunted at him as he kept the gun to his head and a hand over his mouth, turning them both around and dragging him toward a set of stairs that went up. H-how did he know they were there?

He dragged Flavio along the stone staircase for quite a while before pulling him out onto a new floor. He quickly realised what Ascott was trying to do. Put as much distance between them and his teammates as possible. An entire floor.

So he…so he couldn’t yell for help.

Manhandling him toward the forest wall, Ascott finally pulled his hand away from Flavio’s mouth, causing him to gasp loudly to get much needed air back into his lungs. “What the hell are you doing?!” he shrilled.

“Fuck’s sake, you’ve got some lungs on you,” Ascott murmured as he shoved Flavio toward a stone pillar to incapacitate him further. He then did something unexpected and horrifying.

He started to pull at his clothing.

N-no!

As Ascott begun tugging at his coat and armour, Flavio felt a surge of panic rush through him. “Stop touching me, you pervert!” he yelled in a high-pitched voice as he desperately struggled against him.

Ascott grunted lowly before abruptly pushing Flavio face first up against a stone pillar, pressing his cheek against the rough stone. He then pressed himself against Flavio, trapping him against the stone pillar and his body. Something that made Flavio feel instantly nauseated and violated.

Grabbing his arms, Ascott pulled Flavio’s arms behind his back, effortlessly pinning his wrists together with one hand. Flavio gritted his teeth, blinking back the tears as Ascott began removing his armour, piece by piece. Soon, he was dressed in his casual gear, long-sleeved back shirt, vest and (thankfully!) pants and boots. Surprisingly, he also had his belts with his survival packs.

For whatever reason, Ascott seemed only interested in his coat and explorer armour and accessories. Why, though? Not that he wanted the disgusting pervert touching him, but he had to be up to something.

Pinning his wrists together again behind him, Ascott seemed to reach into his coat, looking for something. Flavio soon realised what when he felt something coarse wrapped tightly around his wrists, tying them together. He was actually tying his wrists together with rope. He was actually, honestly, abducting him!

Flavio felt another surge of panic rush through him. He needed his hands. He couldn’t do anything without them. But try as he might, he just couldn’t put up much of a fight. All his struggling seemed inconsequential to Ascott.

Had he done something like this before? That was an unsettling thought…

After tying the rope tightly and ensuring that it would not slip, Ascott grabbed Flavio by the arm and pulled him away from the stone pillar. Flavio staggered on his feet, not used to be manhandled so roughly or so easily.

Bending down, Ascott picked up Flavio’s coat from the labyrinth’s floor and then carelessly threw it over the side of the path, purposely aiming for a pink petal branch that was sticking out. What was he trying to do? Was he…trying to fool anyone who happened across his coat into thinking that Flavio had met with a monstrous fiend and met his end, his body falling over the side of the path?

“That’ll piss him off,” Ascott muttered under his breath before reaching into his coat and pulling out his gun.

He then proceeded to drag Flavio along by his arm, seemingly pulling him toward another set of stairs. As he did so, he kicked several pieces of Flavio’s armour along the ground, scattering them in all directions as if there had been a battle or struggle. Well, there had been a struggle, just a different kind of struggle.

Even though he no longer had a gun pointed at his head, Flavio still was unable to fight himself free. The fact that his wrists were tied behind his back didn’t help matters. And the grip Ascott had on his arm was strong. Was he part landsknecht or protector or something? A gunner shouldn’t have that kind of physical strength, right?

“What the hell are you doing?” Flavio asked, relentless in his struggling. “What is wrong with you? Why are you doing this?”

“Shut up and move,” Ascott snarled at him, barely pausing in his movements as he glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “And don’t bother struggling. That rope was made especially for survivalists so they wouldn’t be able to wiggle their way free.”

Flavio's mind was racing as he stumbled over his own feet, scuffing up the stone pathways with his boots. What was Ascott doing? Was this revenge for the two times he said no to him? Was it an ego thing? No, it had to be more than that. He was too in control to be raging mad for revenge. There was something else involved. He had been plotting something from the very beginning. Probably long before they even officially met. And that only caused Flavio to feel more terrified.

As Ascott dragged him up yet another flight of stairs (how could he know so much about this unknown stratum?), Flavio found his thoughts immediately turning to his teammates. What about the others? Have they realised that he was gone? They would have had to, right? They knew better than to be complacent about their surroundings. Someone was sure to notice his bow lying on the ground and react. But what if…what if they find his jacket, tossed aside carelessly, hooked on that branch and think he was dead. Somewhere on the lower floors?

What if…what if they stop looking after that?

No…Fafnir wouldn’t stop like that. He was too stubborn, too forthright. He wouldn’t give up without knowing the truth. Just as Flavio would do the same for him.

Flavio just needed to find a way to slow Ascott down somehow. Give Fafnir enough time to catch up. Yeah, that was a plan.

“I hate this fucking stratum,” Ascott suddenly mumbled as he momentarily placed his gun into his jacket and pulled out a rough parchment of paper that appeared rather old. Decades, probably. He then made a noise akin to a groan of sheer annoyance. “They expect me to get the Formaldehyde as well? Not a fucking delivery boy…”

Flavio wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but he knew one thing was for certain; Ascott was working for someone. Another guild? An underhanded government official? Some baron that had more money than sense? Anything was possible. And all possibilities were terrifying!

Reaching the top of the stairs, Flavio abruptly found himself staring out into blue sky surrounded by pink petals once more. He hadn’t the faintest idea where he was, but knew he was somewhere still within the Petal Bridge stratum. Not that it helped with his anxiety very much.

R-right, his plan.

“U-um, hey?” Flavio said as he tried to get his abductor’s attention, never relenting in trying to dislodge his arm from Ascott’s hold. “You know, if you let me go, I won’t tell anyone about this. P-promise, yeah?”

“I’m not an idiot,” Ascott snorted as he shoved the parchment back into his coat and pulled out his gun again, holding it in an expert grip. “Library guys like you write everything down.”

…That was true. Ascott certainly did his homework. And that wasn’t a good thing. What else did he know about him? And what about Fafnir and the others? What did he know about them?

Wait…they’re not trying to use him to get to Fafnir, were they?

“Since you’re not going to let me go, can you at least tell me what the hell is going on?” Flavio asked as he was mercilessly dragged along by his arm again. He had to keep talking. His voice…someone might hear him.

“None of your business,” Ascott muttered.

Flavio felt his eye twitch. “No, yeah, it kinda is.”

A slight smirk of amusement appeared on Ascott’s lips. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

…That certainly wasn’t good.

“S-so, ah, you’ve been here before?” Flavio asked, half wanting to know more about his current predicament, the other half simply for the sake of talking. Just keep talking and Fafnir will hear him.

“I’m not answering that question,” Ascott retorted sharply, sounding quite frustrated and grumpy as he pulled him over toward the edge of the pathway, where a strange yellow object could be seen. It was…floating somehow.

Flavio felt dread was over him when Ascott barely slowed in his steps. Was he…actually going to step out onto that thing? Was he crazy?!

“Pause in your struggling for a moment,” Ascott unexpectedly said to him as he tugged him closer toward him, ensuring that they both step onto the floating platform at the same time. “I know you want to escape, but plummeting several floors isn’t going to do shit.”

That was probably the only thing Ascott had said that Flavio would agree with.

Stepping onto the yellow contraption, Flavio felt his heart skip several beats, his stomach doing a flip, when the yellow floating thing dipped lowly amongst the pink petals before pushing forward. It bobbed along merrily, almost like it was floating on water or something. It then bumped into the stone pathway on the other side of a large gap in the floor, causing both Flavio and Ascott to stumble forward a couple of steps, moving onto a new and unknown pathway.

What the hell was that thing?

“A handy, but extremely annoying transportation device,” Ascott said with a slight smirk on his lips, replying as if he had just read Flavio’s thoughts.

“You have been here before,” Flavio accused, furrowing his brow at his captor. “How is that possible?”

“The labyrinth didn’t appear overnight, dipshit,” Ascott snorted in response, even going as far to roll his eyes in contempt. “It’s been around for centuries.”

Centuries?

“And a place this big, it’s easy to sneak around,” Ascott continued as a smirk slipped across his lips. “Not everything has to be made official, don’t you know?”

Flavio didn’t want to think about what Ascott was implying. Although, guild Esbet did introduce him to the dark, underbelly side of the labyrinth…

“Flavio!”

Flavio immediately spun around in the direction he heard his name being shouted, searching around desperately with his eyes. That was Fafnir’s voice. He had never heard it so loud, but he beyond certain that that voice belonged to no other than Fafnir.

“Fafnir!” Flavio called back, tugging desperately at Ascott’a hold as the other man tried to pull him back.

A mere second later, a familiar figure appeared, racing out from the stairs that he and Ascott had just ascended themselves. Fafnir looked dishevelled, angry and worried. But he was ok. He wasn’t injured. He was in one piece.

Flavio felt lightheaded from relief when he gaze met with Fafnir’s across the gap. Fafnir had been so close behind them. He knew it. He knew that Fafnir would find him!

“Flavio!” Fafnir said as he pushed forward, only to stop because of the great big space of sky between them. His brow immediately furrowed and he seemed to grit his teeth in anger. There…was no way for Fafnir to get across. That floating disk was on Flavio’s side of the gap.

“Fucking shit,” Ascott cursed as he yanked back on Flavio’s arm strongly, pulling him back toward him, Flavio’s back hitting him square in the chest. He then raised his gun and fired off a couple of desperate rounds; causing Bertrand to unexpectedly appear and lift his shield in front of Fafnir, protecting him.

Flavio immediately felt concern rush through him for his friends’ safety as the bullets ricocheted off of Bertrand’s shield. “Fafn-mphf!”

“Shit,” Ascott cursed again as he placed a hand over Flavio’s mouth to stop him from uttering another sound, positioned him in front of him and re-aimed the gun toward where Fafnir and the others were standing. “I wasn’t expecting that he would be so quick.”

…What? Was he hoping that Fafnir would follow? Why?

“This is not going to plan. They’re going to have to wait until tomorrow,” Ascott continued to mutter to himself, giving another slight indication that he had the whole thing arranged from the beginning, yet also as if he hadn’t planned it by himself. “I pissed him off a little too much…”

Someone…really had arranged for Flavio to be kidnapped?

"Fuuuuck," Ascott suddenly muttered lowly as he skittishly looked around, his eyes darting all over the place as if he was surrounded by unseen enemies or something. "I wasn't expecting natives, either."

Flavio felt alarmed at Ascott’s nervous reactions and he found himself looking upwards at the towering tree branches out of instinct. Natives? Who-? Wait…there were shadows amongst the tree branches. A lot of them. More than a dozen. He couldn’t see what they were, but they…weren’t human. He was sure of that.

Were they monsters? No, something didn’t feel right…

Removing his hand from Flavio’s mouth, Ascott wrapped the arm that held the gun across Flavio’s chest to keep him in front of him as he desperately dug around in the pockets of his coat. He quickly made a sound of relief and satisfaction, and he pulled his hand back, once again, wrapping his arm around Flavio to ensure he couldn’t get free.

Flavio felt dread wash over him when he realised what Ascott was holding in his hand. Not good.

“He’s going to use an Ariadne Thread!” he urgently shouted over to Fafnir.

Fafnir’s eyes immediately widen upon realising the implication and an expression of unadulterated fear appeared on his face. His face then creased into a scowl, almost as if he was growling dangerously.

“Flavio!” Fafnir called out over the wide distance between them. “Don’t do anything reckless! I’ll come for you!”

Flavio’s eyes widen a fraction as an expression of surprise appeared on his face. However, he soon pressed his lips together into a thin line and nodded his head in acceptance and understanding.

“Wait for the ransom note!” Ascott unexpectedly shouted as he tightened his grip on Flavio.

Flavio didn’t know who was really behind his kidnapping and why, but Fafnir would rescue him. No matter what. He just had to be patient and wait.

But Fafnir…looked so helpless when Ascott activated the Ariadne Thread.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Rook and everyone who has read and kudos this story! Now, a special something from Fafnir’s POV. Enjoy!

Flavio had been acting strange lately. The last couple of days especially.

It wasn’t his usual nerves, either. Fafnir was used to his tendency to be both intensely on alert and skittishly cautious. He was used to his friend hiding behind a mask of cheerfulness when he was worried. He was used to Flavio coming to him about his concerns hours or days later and blurting it all out to him as he fidgeted with whatever he could get his hands on, looking intensely relieved after he got everything off his chest.

What he wasn’t used to was the heartbroken expression that his friend would wear whenever he thought Fafnir wasn’t paying attention to him. Something, it seemed, that the survivalist thought he was doing a lot of during the last few days.

But Fafnir was always paying attention to Flavio. Someone had to as he as too busy trying to look after everyone else to the point that he would completely forget about himself. He had always been like that. Ever since they were kids. While most of his nurturing tendencies were appreciated, other times they did nothing but frustrate Fafnir as Flavio would totally neglect himself.

That reminded him; he needed to make sure that Flavio ate something a bit more wholesome than curry. He was scrawny enough as it was. He would rebuke that, but it was the truth.

As he spared a quick over at Flavio, finding him a few feet away from them, Fafnir saw that his friend was wearing that damn expression again. Solemn contemplation. His eyes downcast as he chewed ever so slightly on his bottom lip.

Fafnir was starting to loath that very expression. He’ll give his friend until the morning to come to him, ready to talk. If he didn’t, then Fafnir was going to him and not leaving him alone until he told him everything. Unlike what that martyr thought, he didn’t have to keep everything to himself.

…Fafnir couldn’t help but wonder with a protective bristle if that guy, that obnoxious one from the bar and café, had done something to him and he hadn’t told him yet. If that was the case…

He would go hunting.

“What do you think, Sir Fafnir?” Arianna’s voice pulled Fafnir from his thoughts and he tore his gaze from Flavio to regard the princess. He blinked when he realised that she was looking up at him with an expression of expectation. She had asked for his advice, it seemed.

However…he hadn’t been paying attention. At all.

It wasn’t that he found her boring. It was just his thoughts were elsewhere. He couldn’t tell the princess that, though, as she would only worry herself. And Flavio hated being fussed over.

Er…Ok, well, how to charm his way out of this one?

Opening his mouth in order to answer Arianna, Fafnir instead frowned when he heard a soft noise behind him. The sound was like that of something being dropped onto the ground. He immediately turned his gaze in the direction and the spot Flavio had been standing in only to find that piece of area completely empty.

Saved for his bow lying on the ground.

Turning around completely, Fafnir felt a sense of fear wash over him. Flavio wouldn’t drop his bow. He wasn’t clumsy. “Flavio!” he called out immediately in alarm.

As the others of their party turn to look as well, Fafnir sprinted forward to where the bow was lying on the ground and crouched down. As he picked the weapon up, he inspected the ground around it, noticing that there were crushed pink petals from where Flavio had stood only moments ago. There was no blood, though. A good sign.

However, as he eyed off the pink petals he noticed that some of them appeared to have been smeared across the stony ground and it was leading toward the forest wall. It was almost as if someone or something appeared from the forest wall, grabbed Flavio and dragged him back through. Jumping to conclusions? Maybe. But what else could have happened? Flavio wouldn’t have been taken out by a monster without making some kind of noise. He wasn’t weak, either. He knew how to put up a fight.

“Sir Fafnir?” Arianna questioned him, concern and worry in her voice.

Pushing himself to his feet, Fafnir continued to eye off the wall in front of them. “Someone or something has taken Flavio,” he said simply.

“Are you sure?” Chloe asked as she fiddled somewhat nervously with her glasses.

However, Bertrand seemed to share his assumption. “Yeah, the kid wouldn’t wander off in the labyrinth without his bow,” he reminded everyone as he folded his arms across his chest tightly, a serious expression on his face.

“But where could they have taken him?” Arianna asked.

“Arianna, here,” Fafnir said as he thrust Flavio’s bow toward the princess. “Hold this.”

“Um, yes, of course,” Arianna said as she grasped the bow with her hands tightly.

Fafnir reached for his sword as he continued to inspect the forest wall. He could see that there was something on the other side. He could feel a breeze waft gently through the branches. And he could see that some of those branches had been broken as if someone had pushed their way through quickly.

“There’s an opening here,” Fafnir said as he hastily pushed his way through the thicket, hurriedly breaking off a few of the grabbing branches to make his movements easier.

He then suddenly found himself staring out into a clear blue sky surrounded by pink petals. Carefully stepping onto a small, narrow pathway, Fafnir’s attention was immediately pulled away from the view of the sky to a stone tower.

Stairs?

And they were leading up.

That was the only place Flavio could have gone. They didn’t know much at all about the next floor, but they did know one thing; Flavio was there. In trouble. And waiting for them. Waiting for _him._

“Sir Fafnir?”

Turning back toward the opening, Fafnir quickly helped Arianna and Chloe through the thicket of petals and branches, Bertrand taking up the rear. As the three turned to gape at the blue sky, Fafnir turned back toward the stairs. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

“Let’s go,” he said as he headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Wordlessly, the others followed, struggling to keep up with his pace. He knew that he needed to take their needs into consideration as well, but all he could think about was Flavio. He had always been what kept him grounded, his inner voice of reason. So of course he wouldn’t be able to function properly until he knew that his best friend was safe.

Reaching the top of the stairs, the same sight of pink petals, brown-bark trees and dull grey stone pathways greeted them. However, there was a slight difference…

Fafnir all but stopped breathing. Flavio’s jacket…it was hanging from a tree branch. Off the path and out of reach. The Midgard Library emblem glistened in the sunlight as the breeze gently toyed with the fur inlay of the hood.

_No…_

“Oh no!” Arianna gasped loudly as she stared in horror at the discarded jacket as well. “I-isn’t that Sir Flavio’s? He’s-?”

“No,” Fafnir said, his voice firm.

“B-but, Sir Fafnir-” Arianna stuttered lightly. “It a-appears that-”

“No,” Fafnir said again, as firmly as before.

Flavio wasn’t dead. He hadn’t fallen over the side. That wasn’t possible. Flavio wouldn’t pass that easily or quickly. He just wouldn’t. Besides, his coat was unmarred. No tear to be seen. It had simply been discarded.

Which only increased his suspicions that someone or something had Flavio against his will.

If it was that guy from the bar…

“He’s around here somewhere,” Fafnir insisted as he immediately began scanning the area with a highly critical gaze.

“Something’s definitely going on, alright,” Bertrand unexpectedly mused before pointing toward the thick forest wall of the stratum, his brow furrowing deeply. “Those are pieces of Flavio’s armour, aren’t they?”

Fafnir turned to look where Bertrand was indicating and felt his blood slowly begin to boil. As Bertrand said, pieces of Flavio’s armour had been strewn about carelessly, as if trying to create the illusion that Flavio had encountered a viscous monster and lost the battle. But the armour hadn’t been damaged.

…Not only had someone taken Flavio against his will, they removed his coat and armour from him. They had placed their dirty, disgusting hands on him. If they…if they did more to violate him…

He was going kill them. Remove them from existence.

Turning his attention to their surroundings, he hastily looked around with a critical gaze, looking for anything that could help him. Any sign, any anomaly that could pinpoint him in the direction Flavio was taken. He wasn’t a spotter or trained survivalist like Flavio, but he knew when something was out of place.

His sharp gaze soon fell upon something that appeared to be amiss. Striding forward a few steps, he noticed that the petals that littered the forest floor had been displaced and marred.

He knelt down and examined the stone pathway. More scrape markings on the floor. From a pair of boots. They looked fresh. They must be from Flavio. Whoever, whatever, had him as their captive, he was fighting them.

_Good_ , Fafnir thought to himself as he placed his hand against the scuff marks for a second before leaping to his feet. _Keep fighting, Flavio. I'll be there soon._

Looking forward, in what he guessed was a northerly direction; he spied yet another tall stone tower, similar in every way to the one they just stepped out of.

Another set of stairs.

Another floor.

They had to keep moving.

“We shouldn’t rush into this,” Bertrand said, pulling Fafnir to a stop. “It could be a trap for all we know.”

Fafnir whipped around and sent Bertrand a stare. Not a glare, but a look that dared him to try and stop him. Daring him to try something, anything, to slow him down. Try it and fail miserably.

Bertrand held his gaze for a moment before sighing loudly, his shoulders sagging as he shook his head. “You kids,” he muttered. “Honestly.”

“Then stay here,” Fafnir said. He might be acting reckless and inconsiderate of the others, but he couldn’t help it. It was Flavio that was in danger. His Flavio. He’ll apologize when it’s all over and Flavio was safe. Until then…

“No.” Surprisingly, it was Arianna who said that. “Sir Fafnir is concerned for Sir Flavio. We will accompany him, but no longer will we slow him down.”

Somewhat surprised, Fafnir turned to regard the purple-haired princess and found her serious and resolute. “Arianna?”

“Never mind us, Sir Fafnir,” Arianna said, almost as if she was issuing an order. “Go without hesitation. We’ll be right behind you.”

Fafnir stared at her for a moment before quickly snapping out of it and nodding his head in both acceptance and gratitude. Then, without so much as a backward glance, he ran forward up the stairs.

The mark on the back of his hand, the Fafnir Knight scar, was burning. His whole right arm was twitching. He could feel the power of the Fafnir Knight coursing through him, barely restrained. It was because he knew that Flavio was in danger. Arianna may have been the one to initiate his inner power, but it was Flavio...Flavio whom Fafnir desired to protect more. It was always Flavio.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Fafnir found himself shouting his friend’s name as loud as he could. “Flavio!”

Silence. And then…

“Fafnir!”  
   
Fafnir’s eyes widen. That voice. Yes, it was Flavio. No mistaking it.

With his body nearly trembling with adrenaline, Fafnir shot out from the staircase and skidded over the stony terrane of the labyrinth’s floor. Ignoring the sight of the blue sky once again, Fafnir hastily looked around. His gaze soon collided with that of Flavio’s. Blue eyes met red.

He was alive.

A smile of relief appeared on Flavio’s face as he pulled against his abductor’s restraints, his arms pinned behind his back. His abductor. It was… It was him. That guy from the bar. Ascott or something. He was the one who took Flavio against his will.

Just wait until Fafnir got his hands on the bastard.

After he got Flavio away from him first.

“Flavio!”

Fafnir pushed forward, only to abruptly stop. There was nothing but air in front of him. No direct pathway. Nothing. How did they get over there and how could he get himself over there?

…Damn it! So close, yet not close enough!

That was it. He needed to go into Fafnir Knight Mode. _Now._

Fafnir clenched his jaw tightly when Ascott abruptly pulled Flavio back against his chest, wrapping a disgusting arm around him to keep him trapped against him. An expression of disgust mixed with fear and unease appeared on Flavio’s face when Ascott positioned him in front of him, using him as a shield.

It was only when Ascott pointed his gun at him that Fafnir realised that he was armed.

Before he could pull the trigger, Bertrand suddenly appeared, grabbing Fafnir by the shoulder to pull him back behind him as he stepped in front of him. He raised his shield in front of the both of them seconds before gunshots rang out, followed quickly by the ‘tang’ of the bullets hitting and ricocheting off the shield.

Damn it. No wonder he was able to subdue Flavio so quickly.

“Isn’t that the guy from the bar?” Bertrand asked as he risked a glance over his shield.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Fafnir responded bitterly. He hadn’t expected the asshole to pull a stunt like this. He should have been more cautious, more thorough in scaring him off. He should have known that the bastard was trouble.

“Didn’t think it would come to this,” Bertrand unexpectedly mumbled. “But this…isn’t revenge. It’s something else.”

What else could it be?

“He’s going to use an Ariadne Thread!” Flavio suddenly yelled.

What? No!

“Flavio!” Fafnir yelled. “Don’t do anything reckless! I’ll come for you!”

Despite the distance between them, Fafnir could see as Flavio’s eyes widen before he pressed his lips together into a tight line and nodded his head once. He understood what he meant. He always understood him. Better than anyone.

“Wait for the ransom note!” Ascott yelled just before he activated the Ariadne Thread.

Fafnir kept his gaze focused entirely on Flavio, their eyes locked. And Fafnir felt himself shake from anger as Flavio disappeared in a flash of light, along with his captor.

Flavio…He looked scared.

Fafnir gritted his teeth as his body shook from barely supressed rage. Unable to hold back his frustrations, he opened his mouth and yelled into the sky before him. “Damn it!”

… … … … …

Fafnir couldn't sit still. He had to keep moving. Even if he was just pacing back and forth in his room at the inn, having jettison from the labyrinth by the use of their own Ariadne Thread. There wasn’t anything else they could do.

Wait. Wait for the ransom note.

That was infuriating. The whole thing was utterly infuriating.

Why? Why Flavio? Who would possibly want to hurt him? Flavio hadn’t done a single thing wrong. He didn’t deserve any of this. What could they possibly think would be of equal value to Flavio’s life and safety? What could they possibly want in exchange?

“Sir Fafnir…”

Arianna wanted to sooth his nerves in some manner, to comfort him. But Bertrand pulled her back, taking her by the arm and preventing her from interrupting his pacing. The blond-haired protector didn't say anything to her. He just shook his head, giving her a stern look. Although reluctant, Arianna stayed back. And just watched.

Honestly, Fafnir was glad. He didn't want comfort or someone to sooth down his anger. He wanted directions. He wanted action. He wanted Flavio back safe and sound. And until then he wasn't going to rest. He wouldn't be able to rest.

"Ah, the Midgard Library Guild," a somewhat familiar voice called out in greeting. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Pausing momentarily in his pacing, Fafnir turned to watch the red-haired protector, Hrothgar, walk over to them. His ever faithful companion, Wulfgar, trotting a few steps behind him.

"Oh, good day, Sir Hrothgar," Arianna greeted in return, ever polite. She did, however, also sound strained from impatience and frustration. "Is there something that you require from us?"

"I was asked to hand you a letter," Hrothgar explained quickly, no doubt sensing their frustration and impatience, before a frown appeared on his face. "Yet I'm reluctant to do so. The author of such note is...suspect, to be polite."

Just the note Fafnir had been waiting for.

"Give me the letter," Fafnir demanded as he quickly walked toward Hrothgar.

The redheaded protector looked momentarily startled by his terse demand, but seemed to bite his tongue. Instead he reached into a small alcove of his armour and pulled out a small envelope with a strange marking stamped on the back.

Snatching the note, Fafnir ripped it open and scanned it with his eyes. The note was simple and short, giving him everything he needed to know. However, it offered him nothing he wanted to know.

_Floor 14. C5 - shortcut. Be at B6 at 6pm. Not before. Your guild only. No one else._

Fafnir frowned and immediately turned to look at the clock. He glared at it. 12pm. Six hours to wait. Six fucking hours. That was too long!

At the very, very least, he didn’t have to waste time and energy running around for a ransom. It seemed they changed their minds and simply want their presence as the ransom. It was going to be a big mistake on their part.

"Is something the matter?" Hrothgar asked, almost reluctantly.

"Flavio has been kidnapped," Fafnir replied with anger and frustration in his voice. "They want us to be on the fourteenth floor at 6pm and not before."

At first Hrothgar looked startled by the revelation. He, however, soon pressed his lips together and nodded his head grimly. “I see. Do you require any assistance? I know a guild that specialises in search and rescue.”

"No," Fafnir said immediately, preventing Hrothgar from possibly suggesting some names. "Can't risk it. Our guild only."

Again, Hrothgar nodded his head in understanding. "Well, I guess I can ensure that no other guild steps foot on that floor," he offered. "As you said, we can't risk it. An innocent guild might stumble across them by accident and kidnappers may become skittish, thinking that you've backed out from their demands."

Fafnir hadn't thought about that. Shit. He was right.

"Thank you," he said, accepting the man's reasoning and help.

A slight smile appeared on Hrothgar's lips, although it did not reach his eyes. "It's the least I can do."

He soon frowned again, however, and shook his head in displeasure. “You best be careful. That seal belongs to the Curse Academy. As the name suggests, they deal with curses and hexes, most commonly, dark ritual arts. They are...neither the politest nor the most predictable of people."

Fafnir didn't care who they were. They had Flavio. They had taken him against his will.

The ability to use curses or not, they were going to go to hell in a hand basket if they did anything to Flavio.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much love for Rook and TheeSlyKingFrost for commenting~ <3

Flavio felt heavy in body and mind when he opened his eyes, finding himself in a room he did not immediately recognise. Looking around blearily, he was alarmed to realise that he could barely breathe. There was something covering his mouth. A cloth of some kind tied around his head and over his mouth.

…A gag? He was being gagged?

Crap, no, he…really had been kidnapped, hadn’t he? Shit. How could he have let that happen? How did it come to this?

He wriggled his wrists and realised that his bindings had been changed slightly. They were far more restrictive. His arms where folded behind him, against his lower back. His right wrist was tied to his left elbow and visa-versa for the other side. Thick, coarse rope was looped around his chest and upper arms, preventing any possible movement there as well.

And his ankles; they were tied together, too.

When did they…Ah, right. He had blacked out somehow. Oh, wait…When Ascott used Ariadne Thread he heard a string of mutterings that he couldn’t understand before everything went black. Was that a spell of some kind? A curse?

Whatever it was, it resulted in him possibly falling asleep (or simply unconscious) and he had no idea where he was. Was he still in High Lagaard? Did anyone see him? Did anyone care to notice?

As he idly, fruitlessly, tugged at his bindings, Flavio glanced around at his surroundings, hoping to recognise something. However, nothing looked even remotely familiar. He appeared to be in some kind of rickshaw shack, barely lived in. The windows were closed and barricaded shut with boards and nails. The air felt stuffy, as if the place had been abandoned for quite a few years.

He, however, appeared to also be lying on a bed in a small room. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing he had ever laid upon, but it did somewhat ease the strain of his bindings on his body. Having his arms pinned behind him in such a restraining manner was becoming painful.

“You didn't mention natives.”

“Natives? Truly? They were supposed to be legends.”

Flavio became still when he heard voices. One he unfortunately recognise, the other a complete mystery. Shifting his head ever-so slightly, he quickly realised that he wasn’t alone. He immediately saw Ascott through the doorway, the other man standing in the middle of what could have been once the kitchen area of the shack, his hands on his hips looking disgruntled.

And there were three more with him, all dressed in dark coloured cloaks that were tattered and worn, large chains wound tightly around their midsections, yet did nothing to hinder their movements. They almost appeared like Hexers. No, they had to be hexers.

Only one of them was talking, though. Communicating fully with Ascott. The other two were silently milling about in the background, idly flipping through books and seemed to be anointing black candles with some kind of oil.

“Fucking bird people. I didn't ask them what they were,” Ascott continue, folding his arms crossly over his chest. “But they certainly weren't monsters.”

Dressed in a dull, yet somehow ominously red cloak, the man that Ascott was talking too nodded his head idly, his faded green eyes not blinking as he gazed off airily into the air in front of him. “Intriguing.”

“Like shit,” Ascott all but growled. “What if they attacked as well?”

“Ah, I see your point,” the other commented idly, sounding as vague as he looked. He then suddenly turned his faded green eyes over in Flavio’s direction, making him abruptly shut his eyes and try to lay as still as possible. “No matter, we'll concentrate on another. He’ll need to fast to ensure a success.”

Fast? Wait, were they going to starve him? And ensure a success for what? What were they planning to do with him?!

“We'll focus on the third stratum,” he continued.

“Yeah,” Ascott agreed and Flavio peeked out through his eyelashes, noticing with relief that the hexer was focusing his attention back on Ascott. “While the ice is annoying, it's not as nearly as difficult as Petal Bridge to navigate.”

They seemed to know so much about the labyrinth. Who were they really? How could they be so knowledgeable? What were they actually trying to gain?

And, most importantly, why the hell was he involved in it all?

The hexer hummed lightly as he revealed a book that he had been carrying in the nook of his arm and flipped it open. “If my theory is correct, this will work within an hour of being set up. The dragon’s scale will be useful for when we return-”

“Keep your mumblings to yourself, Naboth,” Ascott suddenly chided, as if remembering that Flavio was there as their hostage and would be able to eavesdrop on everything they were muttering. “We've got a job to do.”

“No need to be rude,” the hexer that must be named Naboth tisked in reply, but seemed to comply with what Ascott said as he grew quiet and turned his attention back to his book.

A job to do? They couldn’t be working for someone else, could they? And all this trouble for a dragon’s scale?

Wait a minute…a dragon’s scale?! They were going to try and find a dragon?! With him as bait?!

Worst still, were they hoping that they would be able to rile Fafnir up enough to fight a dragon for them?!

Flavio felt a sense of true fear and helplessness wash over him as he tugged at his bindings again fruitlessly. He couldn’t…get free. He couldn’t do anything. Why? Why was he so useless?

Please, let Fafnir find him before the ritual was completed…

… … … … …

Flavio hated the cold. Did he mention that before? Because, yeah, the cold sucked. Even more so now that he wasn’t wearing his warm, trusty jacket and was being strung up like a piece of meat between two stony cold monuments in the middle of a field of ice and snow!

Standing between a frozen lake of ice and an open field of pristine snow, Flavio shivered as an icy cold wind breezed over him. He was situated between two stone monuments that were a natural feature of the third stratum, one wrist tied with rope to one pillar, the other tied to the other monument. His arms were pulled out to his sides, position slightly upwards in a completely submissive and exposed manner.

Ascott was pacing around him, constantly check and re-checking his bindings while the three hexers, Naboth seemingly the leader, were busying themselves with dark candles, weathered parchments and bundles of dried herbs.

Flavio knew what they were doing. They were preparing for a ritual. He hadn’t the faintest idea what the ritual was going to contain, but was fairly certain that it was either going to be painful on his part or exceedingly mentally and spiritually destructive.

He was way beyond nervous now. He was terrified.

And he did the only thing he could really do. And that was to talk. Maybe his voice, like he had hoped for last time, would gain someone’s attention. Someone human, yeah? N-not a dragon or something similar.

“Let me get this straight,” Flavio said as Ascott ensured that the rope around his right wrist wasn’t tight enough to cut off circulation (wasn’t he thoughtful?) but tight enough that he couldn’t wiggle his way free. “You want to lure out a legendary ice dragon so you can take one of it scales?”

Ascott rolled his eyes as he snorted lightly. “Figured that out by yourself, did you?”

Flavio determinately ignored that question. “And I’m here as bait?”

“No shit.”

He didn’t have to be so blunt. “Why do you need the scale?”

“Personal reasons.”

“Then why couldn’t you be a normal person and put up a quest or something?!”

Ascott snorted harshly again as he moved away from Flavio’s right side to secure the rope around his left wrist. “And get a bunch of weaklings killed? Yeah, that would put an even bigger price on our heads.”

…They’ve already got a price on their heads? What have they done?

After ensuring that his right wrist was also tightly secure, Ascott moved to stand directly in front of Flavio and patted him on the cheek. “Sit tight, Beautiful. This may take an hour or two.”

“Don’t call me that,” Flavio hissed as he turned away from Ascott’s hand, swallowing back the wave of nausea such an unwanted touch induced. “Does that fake charm of yours actually work?”

“Of course it does,” Ascott said with a scoff as he pulled his hand back before shrugging nonchalantly. “Just not here, for some reason.”

Flavio couldn’t help but snort lightly. “Let me guess; I'm the first to defy you, which is why I'm the bait? To soothe your bruised ego?”

“I’m tempted to fucking gag you,” Ascott suddenly growled at him, looking annoyed while Naboth was heard snorting with amusement a few feet away. “For a hostage, you’re way too talkative.”

Well, who could blame him? He always prattled incoherently whenever he was nervous. And the situation he found himself in currently was pretty anxiety producing!

“Besides, you're not the first we chose, you know?” Ascott unexpected admitted.

Flavio raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Ascott shrugged casually again before smirking and folding his arms over his chest. “Initially, we wanted a medic, a rather beloved one, from the hospital. Orange-hair, violet eyes. Rather pretty, I must admit.”

There was a rather…perverted expression on his face as he took a moment to recall the one he was talking about. He, however, soon winced from another memory and uttered an exasperated sigh.

“However, we soon realised that he's surrounded by several weapon-toting guilds that are more than willing to engage in bloody and destructive violence to protect him,” he admitted with a scowl, once again wincing. “I mean, shit, if we tried this with him, those guilds would tear this labyrinth to pieces looking for him. No way in hell could we make a clean getaway in that situation.”

Flavio couldn’t help but wonder what kind of person that medic was to have more than one guild acting protectively toward him. He, however, didn’t muse about for long as his attention was drawn to Naboth who lugged a large bag into the clearing a few feet in front of him.

Opening up the sack, Naboth reached his hand in and pulled out powdery substance that was the colour of grey and black. He then proceeded to scatter it atop of the snow. It took Flavio a second or two to realise that he was creating a pattern on the snow. And he was doing it in a circle around where Flavio was strung up. And he realised with a sense of dread that he was in the middle. The centrepiece.

The offering…

“I-is this really necessary?” Flavio stuttered from both the cold and the fear that was growing stronger inside of him.

“Dust to dust, ash to ash,” Naboth murmured as he proceeded to empty the bag with a few précised flicks of his hands. “Life and death, white and black. To ground and to surrender. Pierce the veils of two worlds.”

…Flavio hadn’t a clue what he was talking about, but he certainly didn’t like it!

Flavio swallowed thickly. “Next you'll be telling me you'll need a virgin sacrifice to appease some god,” he muttered, hoping that he was being sarcastic and not being a prophet.

Ascott turned to look at him, trailing his eyes up and down over him before smirking. “How do you know we're not doing that now?”

Flavio blushed and bristled at the same time. “Shut up!”

“Once this is done, we won’t be using you again,” Naboth suddenly said. His words, however, were not even remotely reassuring. “That is, of course, if this attempt is successful.”

“W-what’s so special about this ice dragon?” Flavio found himself asking as talking was the only way to distract himself from the cold and his fear.

“Hm, just the scale,” Naboth replied airily as he continued to focus his attention on the arcane circle and the offerings within. “Three elemental dragons possess quite powerful items that are highly useful.”

…Three elemental dragons? Yeah, he had heard about them.

“Wait, you’re going to try this two more times?” Flavio asked with wide eyes.

“No, one more time,” Naboth responded, again with a casual air that was rather infuriating. “We already retrieved the Fire Scale.”

Flavio’s mouth dropped open in surprise. They’ve already battled against the Great Dragon? “When did you-?”

“Etria has dragons too, you know?” Ascott said, cutting him off and sending him a satisfied, smug smirk as he folded his arms across his chest.

Etria…?

“B-but…this is ludicrous!” Flavio spluttered, unable to hold back his fear any longer. “You can’t go around kidnapping people and using them as sacrificial lambs like this!”

Ascott shrugged. “It’s the only way.”

“Only way for what?” Flavio asked desperately. “Why are you doing this?”

For the first time since Flavio met him, Ascott blatantly refused to look at him. “We have our reasons.”

Out of sheer fear and nerves, Flavio was about to bombard Ascott with more questions and demands but he abruptly fell silent when Naboth appeared before him, staring unblinkingly at him with his faded, dull green eyes.

“Your curiosity seems to know no bounds, young one,” he remarked idly.

Young one? How old was this guy really?

“A trait that is both a blessing and a curse,” Naboth continued before unexpectedly tilting his head to the side to simply gaze at Flavio, almost as if he was sizing him up in a manner that was completely different to the way Ascott looked at him.

In all honesty, he’d rather deal with Ascott staring at him instead of Naboth.

“Very well,” Naboth once again startled Flavio by simply speaking. “If you fill a reflective object, such as the Blizzard Scale, with negative emotions, such as fear, dread, panic, and concern, it in turn will become reflective toward those darken emotions. A magical shield, in a way.”

Flavio opened and closed his mouth a couple of times in a desperate attempt to think of a way to respond. “...I'm not entirely sure what you mean. Why would you need such a thing?”

“You don't need to know what we mean,” Naboth said as he took a single step closer, pushing his face toward his so that they were nearly nose to nose. “You are just the offering.”

Flavio immediately and desperately tugged at his bindings as he tried to pull back, to put distance between them. He shivered from both the fear and cold when Naboth slipped a finger under his chin, tilting his head toward him.

“Now,” he murmured hauntingly. “Give into those dark emotions that hide inside of us all and fear for your life.”

“H-huh?”

… … … … …

As time ticked closer to 6pm, Fafnir’s adrenaline and anxiety grew substantially. Getting to the fourteenth floor was easy compared to the restraint he had to put upon himself not to recklessly charge in. The wait was killing him. He had to know if Flavio was ok. He had to see him for himself.

If anything…

“This is the floor,” Fafnir said as he subconsciously reached for his sword, continuously flexing his hand around the hilt.

“The shortcut they mentioned in the letter should be easy to get to,” Bertrand commented as he turned his gaze toward Fafnir, eying him cautiously before sighing loudly and folding his arms over his chest. “And I doubt the monsters would be any trouble.”

Not with the mood Fafnir was in.

“Why would they keep Sir Flavio is such a place?” Arianna asked as she gazed out over the snow and ice, a frown upon her lips.

Fafnir didn’t know, but he was going to find out. One way or another.

Tugging her coat tighter around her, Chloe also looked out upon the snow with an expression of distain. “Without his armour and jacket he could get frostbite.”

They had to get to him before that happened.

“This will be as far as I will go,” the red-haired protector who had accompanied them stated as he stood within the archway of the stair case. He then motion to the onyx wolf beside him with a curl of his wrist. “Wulfgar will silently make his way to the other stair case and set up guard there while I shall remain here.”

Fafnir turned his attention to Hrothgar and nodded his head in gratitude. “We appreciate the assurance,” he said.

The last thing he wanted was another guild stumbling across the ransom site and unintentionally interfere. He also didn’t want…witnesses, as it were.

“No,” Hrothgar said as he shook his head once before offering him a forced smile. “I wish you luck and I will pray for Flavio’s safety.”

Fafnir nodded his head again before turning to his reminding party members. “Let’s go.”

Without hesitation from anyone, they rushed out onto the fourteenth floor, set with determination to find Flavio and rescue him to safety.

No matter who or what they face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much Rook for commenting on the previous chapter! Second last chapter, so enjoy!

It was…

It was so cold.

He had stopped shivering. That wasn’t good, was it? Shivering produced much needed body heat. To stop meant he was too cold, right?

Flavio shook his head to clear it, but he couldn’t think properly, could barely take his mind off the cold. It was so bitter, biting right through him.

The other two hexers were outside the circle on opposite side and…they were continuously muttering, humming some kind of incantation over and over again. It was eerie and unnerving. He didn’t know what they were saying. But their words, their voices, their very presences…were dark and ominous.

….Someone make them shut up, please.

“Looks as though your friend isn’t coming,” Naboth remarked casually as he paced idly over the snow next to him, barely making a noise.

“F-Fafnir will come,” Flavio murmured, almost slurred as if he was either extremely tired or drunk. “I-I know he will.”

Naboth continued to mill about around him, looking at their surroundings with a bored expression. “He’s late then. Hm, maybe he got into trouble looking for you. I’m sure he’s almost delirious with worry. Wouldn’t that be a shame? Recklessly rushing into the labyrinth to find you only to run in a FOE instead?”

Flavio squeezed his eyes together tightly. “S-shut up.”

He didn’t want to think about that scenario. Fafnir wasn’t like that, anyway, was he? He…he wasn’t reckless. He wouldn’t throw himself into danger like that.

But what if…what if something did happen? What if he did get hurt? What if…he was dead? It would be all his fault. No, he’d rather die than to live with that guilt.

No, no, no. Don’t think like that. No, he had complete faith in Fafnir. He was coming. He was alive and well, if angry and frustrated. He will come and free him. Before the dragon was summoned, right? Yeah. He just had to keep believing that.

“I’m sure he’s being comforted by that pretty little princess right now,” Naboth unexpectedly, and harshly, reminded him.

Flavio unexpectedly felt a lump of emotion lodge itself into his throat and he desperately shook his head as tears threatened to appear in his eyes. No, he didn’t want to imagine that either. He didn’t want to see that image. Fafnir with his arms around Arianna, Arianna running her fingers through his hair as she comforted him…

“I bet they’re actually relieved now.”

…Relieved that he was out of the way? Was he…interfering somehow? Was he getting between them without realising it? It was true, wasn’t it? How could he have been so selfish?

_Fafnir…I’m sorry for being a burden all this time_ , Flavio whispered in his mind as he dropped his chin toward his chest. _All I wanted was to be with you..._

“You know what you should do, right?” Naboth asked him, his voice low and haunting. “For the ones you love, you need to remove yourself from their lives. For their sake.”

B-but Flavio wouldn’t be able to stand it. He couldn’t step back and leave. So, did that mean…? It did. It really did. It was the only way. It was the best thing for everyone.

…It would be better if he was dead.

The black candles that were placed strategically around him suddenly flared up, sparking and crackling an ominous dark blue colour, as if they were suddenly igniting a flammable substance. Then, one after the other in an anti-clockwise direction around the arcane circle, they went out. Abruptly, as if someone or something had went around and snuffed them out.

The air grew tense, the snow no longer falling. Something was coming.

And it was powerful.

There was suddenly a loud roar, so strong and powerful that the snow ceased to fall and the frozen trees creaked and groaned as they shook. Then the sound of rolling thunder was heard.

No…that wasn’t thunder. It was something else.

The battering of wings.

Lifting his head up, Flavio felt his eyes widen and his breath leave his lungs in a rush as a creature with sharp wings and blue scales landed in the middle of the ice field before him, landing so hard that the ground shook once more. It then stood tall on two legs, the monster with three heads, piercing cold eyes, powerful talons and a presence that was not of this world.

It was…that was…

“It’s the Blizzard King,” Naboth murmured, an expression of surprise appearing on his stoic face as he scurried out of the arcane circle.

“Well, shit,” Ascott muttered as he automatically pulled out his gun, a deep scowl on his face. “A little early, isn’t it?”

“The summoning ritual worked too well, it seemed,” Naboth murmured in response as he quickly reached into his cloak and pulled out a bell that had been decorated in strange black etchings. “The cold must have sped up the process of his darken emotions. We’ll have to take into account the environment for our next attempt.”

There was more back and forth being said between Ascott and Naboth, but all Flavio could hear was the sound of his own rapidly beating heart.

Tears clouded his vision, but he could still see the enormous blue dragon. He could still see it staring at him. Could feel its gaze (er, _gazes)_ staring directly at him. He was the offering, after all. The one that Ascott and the others had used to summon the beast in the first place. He was, for some reason or another, what drew the dragon out from wherever it had resided.

He was…going to die, wasn’t he?

B-but…he couldn’t die. Not yet. Not when…Fafnir. Oh god, _Fafnir_ …

Tears rolled down his cheeks, slowly freezing from the bitter cold. Fafnir was going to be all right. He had Arianna, Bertrand and Chloe with him now. They’ll…they’ll work out how to stop the Calamity, and prevent the sacrifice of more Fafnir Knights. He had trust in them.

As long as they were safe he could…pass happily, right?  
   
“Ok,” he murmured as he lowered his head in surrender, not wanting to watch as the dragon slowly edged closer. “I'm ready to go now…”

" ** _Like hell you are!_** "

…Fafnir?

There was a strange…sound. A sound like that of a powerful attack, the one known as meteor, which was promptly followed by a loud roar from the ice dragon. Glancing up, Flavio watched as the Blizzard King staggered back a couple of steps, pushed by an unknown force.

The bindings that had kept Flavio suspended were suddenly removed and Flavio felt himself fall forward, about to land face first into the snow. However, something wrapped around his waist, holding up away from the snow. He was then quickly pulled against something metal, but warm all the same.

“I’ve got you, Flavio.”

Fafnir…

And he…was in his Fafnir Knight Transformation.

He had seen him as the Fafnir Knight many times now, all of which caused his heart to ache for his friend. But right now, as Fafnir lifted him into his arms and held him close, he had never looked or felt so…invincible before.

With an arm around his shoulders and the other under his knees, Fafnir effortlessly carried Flavio away from the arcane circle he was the offering of and away from the blue ice dragon he had somehow summoned. Gliding without fault over the lake of ice, Fafnir continued to hold him as three more familiar faces appeared.

“Here, Sir Flavio,” Arianna said as she grabbed his hands and pressed a grimoire stone within their palms before she gently enclosed his hands around it, keeping hers upon his as a form of comfort and reassurance. “This has the alchemist ability flame. Please use it to keep warm.”

Wrapping his hands around the stone, Flavio felt a rush of gentle warmth flow through him, tingling his fingers and toes. He also felt small shivers slowly begin to arise. His body temperature was slowly increasing. That was good, right?

“I can’t do anything,” Chloe murmured, a surprisingly downcast expression on her face. “He’s not hurt, just very cold.”

“Heads up, guys!” Bertrand suddenly shouted. “It’s regaining its wits!”

…They all came.

Tightening his hold around Flavio, Fafnir turned toward the Blizzard King and although Flavio couldn’t see his face, he knew that he was glaring with intense hatred toward the blue dragon.

“It’s mine,” Fafnir suddenly growled as the Blizzard King howled wildly into the air. “Bertrand.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bertrand instantly replied as he slipped the leather belt attached to his shield over his head and across his chest. He then reached his arms out toward Fafnir, as if ready to retrieve something. “Give me the kid.”

Flavio could feel Fafnir’s reluctance to do so, simply out of protectiveness towards him, but he soon relented and carefully placed him into Bertrand’s arms. And Bertrand effortlessly scooped him up, holding him much like Fafnir had done, but somehow not as…intimately? Was that the right word? One arm around his shoulders, the other under his knees. He was holding him effortlessly against his chest, holding him close in order to offering him some of his body warmth.

“You two get back,” Fafnir said to Arianna and Chloe.

“Dame Chloe, stay with me!”

“Ok!”

The word exhausted didn’t seem accurate enough for how Flavio was feeling. All he wanted to do was to close his eyes and sleep. And yet, he couldn’t. Not with the way he was shivering, the way he was being jostled despite Bertrand’s efforts to keep him comfortable. Especially not with the sounds the Blizzard King was making in its desperate attempts to get to him.

“What the hell?” Bertrand suddenly muttered as he managed to dart behind a monument, just missing a blast of frigid cold air from the Blizzard King. He winced, subconsciously pulling Flavio closer for protection when the blue dragon released a loud roar, almost as if it wailing in frustration. “Why is it so focused on us?”

“I-it’s me,” Flavio coughed as he shivered against Bertrand, clutching the grimoire stone desperately in one hand while the other grasped at the front of Bertrand’s clothing. He was finding it hard to stay awake, but he had to help somehow. He had to tell them what he knew. “T-the ritual. I’m the offering. I-it’s after me.”

“Well, that complicates matters, doesn’t it?” Bertrand muttered as he looked toward Fafnir, completely understating the entire matter. He then suddenly released a loud whistle, prompting Fafnir to unexpectedly push away from the fray, making a motion that he was listening.

“It’s after the kid!” Bertrand shouted to him simply.

Resting his head on Bertrand’s shoulder, Flavio turned to focus his full attention on Fafnir. It was hard to read Fafnir’s emotions due to the intensity of the battle and the transformation of the Fafnir Knight. However, anger and frustration seemed to be the primary feelings being admitted from the man.

“Are you saying that this thing won’t stop until we either kill it or it gets its hands on Flavio?” Fafnir questioned, his voice revibrating around the battlefield easily.

“Seems that way,” Bertrand replied as he continued to hold Flavio in his arms, purposely keeping the two of them away from Arianna and Chloe, allowing the two to continually use their restorative and energizing skills in relatively peace and safety.

Fafnir made a sound that was similar to that of a growl. “Then I’ll just have to kill it.”

Hah…of course you would take that option, wouldn’t you, Fafnir?

But was it the right one? Flavio knew he was strong. He always had been and he always will be. Still…was he strong enough now? The Blizzard King was a dragon. They had read about them in legends back at the Midgard Library. About how powerful they were. How rare. How vicious. Could Fafnir handle it all on his own?

Wait…what about Ascott and his hexers? Where were they? What were they doing? They went to all this trouble to summon the Blizzard King. Surely they wouldn’t skip out now.

No…they were probably waiting for Fafnir to do enough damage before they could slip in, steal the Blizzard Scale and leave, using the dragon as a distraction to prevent being followed. They certainly had everything planned, didn’t they?

And to think…they were going to do this to someone else for the final scale.

Forget them. He had more important things to worry about.

Fighting hard to keep his eyes open, Flavio focused on the battlefield and the clash between Fafnir and the Blizzard King. And as he watched, he felt a sense of dread was over him. Despite all of Fafnir’s attacks, despite being the Fafnir Knight, he still wasn’t strong enough to defeat the Blizzard King. It was too much, too soon. He couldn’t…he couldn’t last much longer.

Flavio had to stop him from exhausting himself. He had to. Fafnir won’t stop. He was too stubborn.

“It’s…it’s too strong,” Flavio murmured as he weakly tried to push himself out of Bertrand’s hold. “Fafnir…”

He knew what he had to do. It was the only way. He was…more than willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for Fafnir. He would do it gladly.

But…not with Bertrand hanging on.

“L-let go,” Flavio murmured as he tried to push Bertrand away, but he was just too tired and weak. He couldn’t do anything. He was utterly useless. Why was he always so useless?

“You’re going to get yourself killed for what?” Bertrand unexpectedly, and surprisingly, asked him as he pulled him into his arms and against his chest. “You’ll be leaving Fafnir behind.”

Flavio tilted his head back to rest against Bertrand’s shoulder, finding the other man gazing down at him. There was a sense of concern in his eyes. Was it directed at him? Was the Old Man actually worried about him? Or merely the situation he dragged everyone into?

“He doesn’t need me anymore,” Flavio said, choking on a sob.

“The fact that he’s taking on a dragon by himself states otherwise,” Bertrand retorted sharply before indicating toward the battlefield with a nod of his head.

Flavio stilled before slowly lolling his head to the side to watch as Fafnir, still in his Fafnir Knight transformation, face down the Blizzard King with barely a falter in his movements. No matter how much the dragon fought back, brushing off his attacks, causing him to constantly dart around the battlefield, he didn’t hesitate in any way. The way he was fighting, it was different than Flavio had seen before. He was more focused, more determined.

Was it because of him?

“This is all my fault…”

Bertrand groaned in annoyance. “Would you stop with that self-sacrificing nonsense for one second?!” he unexpectedly growled at him. “We’ve had enough of that already! We’ve made a pact, remember? No one’s sacrificing themselves ever again. And that includes you!”

...A pact? Yeah, he remembered that now. They were…all going to get through this, find the one called the Overlord and defeat the Calamity. And then, he and Fafnir would return to Midgard Library once more. Together.

As Bertrand tightened his hold on him once more, scooping him up before jumping to the side to avoid a stray attack, there was a sound of a gunshot resonating nearby. Startled, both Flavio and Bertrand looked over at the noise to find Ascott standing there, his gun cocked and loaded, pointed directly at the Blizzard King.

“That should be enough,” he muttered as he kept his gaze focused on the blue dragon. He then frowned deeply, seemingly frustrated and maybe even a little worried. “Move it, Naboth!”

As soon as those words passed his lips, Naboth appeared. Despite the thickness of the snow, Naboth had no problem quickly making his way over to Ascott, something large and blue in his hands. “I have retrieved the Blizzard Scale we desired.”

“Good,” Ascott answered hastily. “Then let’s get out of here.”

“Understood.”

“Where are you going?” Bertrand growled as Ascott and the three hexers quickly toward the natural walls of thick foliage. “Get back here! We’re not done with you yet!”

“Destroy the offering circle and the dragon will leave!” Ascott unexpected stated as he and those dark robe teammates of his edge their way toward an opening in the forest wall. “It’ll also stop the kid from being suicidal!”

What…what did he mean? He wasn’t suicidal. He was being realistic, wasn’t he? It would be better for everyone if he just died!

…No, wait. What was he thinking? That wasn’t him. He wouldn’t let himself go that easily. Not when Fafnir…He’d never do something like that to him.

T-that was what they wanted, wasn’t it? His darken emotions. They wanted, needed him to give up hope, to doubt himself and others. His kidnapping, the cold, the comments, the muttering. They all made sense now. They were cursing him, causing his fear to magnify!

T-those assholes!

“The dragon needn’t die in order to retrieve the scale,” Naboth stated before disappearing through the forest wall.

“Goodbye for real this time, Beautiful,” Ascott said with a grin that was almost apologetic. “You won’t be seeing me again.”

He, too, quickly disappeared into the ice and snow of the third stratum.

Good. _Leave._ If he never saw him again it would be too soon. Bastard.

“Bertrand,” Flavio murmured as he pressed the grimoire stone against his chest plate, giving it to him. “The circle. Like he said.”

“Worth a shot,” Bertrand muttered as he rested Flavio against a stone pillar near one of those mysterious monuments carefully, handling him surprisingly gently. “Do not move from here,” he told him sternly.

Really, as if he could get very far in the condition he was in anyway.

As Bertrand jumped to his feet and moved away, Flavio allowed his head to loll back and rest against the cold stone pillars. The sounds of battle seemed to slowly fade as he stared up at the forest canopy high above, and he found himself musing about how he had gotten himself in such a situation. And soon, he realised, that it had been completely taken out of his hands from the very beginning. He could have done nothing to prevent this. He could never have predicted something like this happening. Never in a million years.

He suddenly felt very…tired. He just needed to close his eyes for a bit. Just…a little…bit…

He only closed his eyes for a second, but he soon felt someone shaking him. Almost desperately.

“Don't do this to me, kid. Wake up. Fafnir will murder me if anything happens to you.”

Wait…was that Bertrand’s voice? Why did he sound so panicky? He had only rested his eyes for a second, right? Just let him sleep for a little bit more…

“Wake up already. For my sake at least.”

…Fine. Alright, old man.

It was surprisingly difficult for Flavio to open his eyes. “Hng...” he murmured as he finally forced his eyes to open and the first thing he saw, although blurry and hazy, was Bertrand, the blond-haired protector looking surprisingly relieved.

“Flavio…?”

Bertrand sighed as he lifted his head up and looked over his shoulder. “He’s here, Fafnir.”

Bertrand then stepped away, allowing for Flavio to see Fafnir as he walked slowly from the battlefield. The Blizzard King was…nowhere to be seen. Did it flee like Ascott said it would?

Staggering out of his transformation, Fafnir fell onto his knees in the snow in front of him. He was exhausted. He put up such a fight, didn’t he? He was absolutely amazing.

Although it was difficult for him to do so, Flavio raised his hand toward Fafnir, his fingertips gently brushing against the skin of his cheek. A split second after that, he was in Fafnir’s arms, Fafnir’s face buried into the crook of his neck while Flavio wrapped his arms tightly around his neck, resting his chin on his shoulder. He could feel tears beginning to well in his eyes against as snow softly drifted around them.

It was over now. The ordeal was over. Everyone was ok.

Wrapped securely in Fafnir’s strong arms, Flavio finally allowed himself succumb to his own exhaustion and fell into unconsciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much Nao and TheeSlyKingFrost for commenting on the previous chapter!
> 
> This is the last chapter for this short series. Will there be more, I hear you ask? (You did ask, right…?) The answer is; maybe. I like writing about characters getting kidnapped, apparently. So, who knows what the future will bring. In any case, hope you’ll enjoy reading!

Flavio felt dazed and groggy as he opened his eyes from a deep, but far from rejuvenating sleep. He felt like a dead weight, yet achy at the same time. He felt warm, though slightly smothered. As if he was under a pile of blankets.

Softly blinking his eyes to regain focus, it took him a moment or two to realise where he was. He was in his room at the inn. He immediately recognised the ceiling, funnily enough. He should. He had spent many a sleepless night staring up at the slight cracks, counting them over and over again, watching as the shadows danced across the ceiling from a flickering candle as he fretted for Fafnir’s future.

Saved for the candlelight, the room was dark. Must be either late in the night or early in the morning.

Lolling his head to the side, Flavio noticed that the door to his room was open and there was a young man he hadn’t seen before standing at the desk, shuffling through a large leather bag. Orange hair and a white coat. He must be a medic. Maybe _the_ medic who often worked at the clinic that was attached to the inn to ease the load on the hospital. Flavio had never met him, but Hanna spoke highly of him. What was his name? He couldn’t remember at the moment.

Wait…a medic with orange hair and violet eyes? Was he the one that Ascott mentioned? The one they had originally wanted but decided against because of some overly protective guilds or something?

Lifting his gaze from his bag, the medic turned toward Flavio and smiled gently when he saw that he was awake. He then turned to look in the opposite direction, seemingly to regard someone else who was outside the door. “He’s awake.”

Immediately, the sight of the medic was replaced with that of his friend, his Fafnir. Flavio felt a rush of relief flow through him upon seeing his best friend. But he also felt a sense of concern. Fafnir looked tired, as if he hadn’t slept a wink for days. Did that mean…Had Flavio been unconscious for a few days? That couldn’t be right, could it?

Rolling onto his side, Flavio wiggled an arm free from the cacoon of his blankets to reach out toward Fafnir, to gently lay his hand against his cheek. Fafnir immediately placed his hand atop of his, leaning into it.

As Flavio looked into Fafnir’s eyes, noticing the light weariness yet relief, he felt the slight sting of tears appear in his own when he remembered what had happened to him, to them.

Fafnir…he fought against an ice dragon. Alone. For him. He could have…he could have been killed.

But he wasn’t.

“You’re ok?” Flavio asked him softly, his voice almost desperate.

“Fine,” Fafnir replied as he tightened his hand around Flavio’s, pulling it away so that he could slightly tilt his head and place a chaste kiss to his palm.

Flavio felt faint from relief.

“Don’t go crowding him so soon,” the medic suddenly scolded lightly as he stood in the threshold of the doorway. “He’s been through quite an ordeal. Let him recover first before asking any hard questions.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Arianna immediately replied as she fidgeted upon her feet, appearing ever so eager to enter the room to check on Flavio herself, but also wanted to abide by the medic’s orders.

However, the second the medic stepped aside, Arianna was inside the room. She was lingering back, but inside nonetheless, looking relieved, yet concerned as the same time as she nervously hopped from one foot to the other. The medic could be heard sighing, but he made no attempt to pull the young woman out of the room. In fact, he even stepped aside to allow Bertrand and Chloe into the room as well. It was like he knew the kinship guildmates held toward each other and was purposely ensuring that he wasn’t getting in-between them.

Seeing that the others had gathered into the room as well, Flavio felt that he should at least sit up in bed to show and reassure his teammates and friends that he was going to be all right. Fafnir tightened his grip on Flavio’s hand to help him up, of which Flavio was grateful for as his limps felt slow and sluggish, making the simplest movements surprisingly difficult.

Just as Flavio rested against the pillows that were propped behind his back, the medic returned, seemingly after speaking with someone, to retrieve his bag. He spent a moment shuffling around in it once more before pulling out a couple of glass bottles, medicine most likely. He placed them atop of the desk and as he lifted his medical bag upon his shoulder, he turned his attention on Fafnir, gently placing a hand of reassurance on his shoulder.

“You can finally get some rest now,” he said, his tone kind and understanding.

Fafnir turned toward him and spoke to him with sincere appreciation. “Thank you.”

The medic simply dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement, smiling kindly once more as he removed his hand from Fafnir’s shoulder. He then turned to regard Flavio, and though he was still smiling, there was a slight sense of maternal sternness in his gaze. “You won’t be exploring for the next few days. You need to rest, and recover. No arguments.”

Honestly, Flavio felt as though he could sleep for the next three or four days.

“We truly appreciate your help, Sir Lynus,” Arianna said, gaining the medic’s attention.

“No, it’s what I’m here for,” the orange-haired medic who’s name must be Lynus returned with a slight chuckle, sounding as if he was somewhat embarrassed about being called ‘sir’. “However, don’t hesitate to ask for my assistance again should anything untoward happen again.”

Hopefully, Flavio was past his days of being a sacrificial lamb.

Turning his attention back to Flavio once more, Lynus gently reached out to place one hand against his forehead while the other touched the inside of his wrist, checking his pulse and temperature. He seemed satisfied when he pulled back after a silent moment.

“You’re going to be fine,” he said in a very comforting and calming manner. “I’ll leave you in your guildmates’ hands. And I’ll take my leave now.”

“T-thanks,” Flavio murmured, feeling a small sense of embarrassment.

Lynus simply chuckled softly before he walked out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him, leaving Flavio alone with his concerned guildmates.

“Thank you for coming so late, love,” Hanna was heard saying just outside the room.

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Lynus replied without hesitation once again. “He’s been through quite an ordeal, but he will be fine. After some food and rest, he’ll be back to his old self in no time. But if you feel as if anything is wrong, please don’t hesitate to ask for me. Please tell Quinoa that as well.”

“You’re always an absolute delight, love!” Hanna chortled with delight.

“I better get going now,” Lynus said, his voice slowly fading, as if he was walking away. “I can’t keep, er, my bodyguards waiting, can I?”

Hanna could be heard chortling as she escorted him to the foyer of the inn. They got along well, don’t they? He seemed really nice.

As the voices faded away, Flavio promptly found himself the centre of everyone’s attention. It wasn’t something he was used to, but he was glad to see that they were also ok. That they hadn’t been harmed by the Blizzard King either. It was a huge relief.

Arianna, Bertrand, and Chloe huddled around his bed, but did not venture any closer. They were being cautious, as if they were afraid to touch him. Not because he was tainted with something, but because they didn’t want to cause him further pain or discomfort. He could tell in their body language; the wringing of hands, the shuffling of feet, the internal struggle against the urge to at least poke him to see if he was real.

“Sir Flavio,” Arianna was the one to break the silence with a gentle voice. “How are you feeling?”

Flavio took a moment to mentally assess himself and he knew that he had to answer honestly. “Like I want to do nothing more than to sleep for the next three or four days.”

“You suffered from hypothermia,” Chloe said as she pushed upon her glasses as an unexpected look of guilt appeared on her face. “Magic couldn’t help…”

Flavio gave the young war magus a reassuring smile, silently telling her that he didn’t hold any fault against her. “How long have I been out of it?” he asked instead, his eyes flickering to the pitch black window.

“Only about a day,” Bertrand answered as he folded his arms across his chest, a somewhat lopsided but knowing grin appearing on his lips. “Fafnir here hadn’t slept since then either.”

Flavio glanced over at Fafnir and noticed that his friend made no attempt to rebuke the protector. He didn’t see the need if it was true. And he couldn’t help but smile, simultaneously feeling appreciative and guilty.

“Do you know why they targeted you?” Bertrand ended up being the one to ask him with a deep frown on his lips. “Did they say anything?”

Flavio shook his head regretfully as he sighed. He honestly didn’t want to talk about…about that at the moment. He honestly wanted to forget the whole thing and pretend that it didn’t happen. But that would be irrational.

“I don’t know much,” he answered honestly. “Just that they’ve been wandering from town to town looking for mazes that could occupy dragons. They’re after scales for a ritual of some kind. They’ve retrieved two already. One here, the blizzard scale, and the other from the great dragon in Etria. That’s all they would tell me.”

Looking upon his teammates’ faces, Flavio immediately noticed that they all looked troubled as they lapsed into a contemplative silence. He couldn’t blame them. After he learnt that they’ve already faced down the Great Dragon before trying for the Blizzard King he was greatly distressed, too. It proved how crazy they were to willingly face down two dragons while making plans for a third. Absolutely crazy!

Or…maybe they were desperate?

No. He didn’t care what their motives were or what their true agenda was – they used him as a sacrificial bait to lure out a dangerous dragon. How many people could they have killed if that thing went on a rampage? Killing him was one thing, but to risk the lives of Fafnir, Arianna, Bertrand, and Chloe was unforgiveable!

Shaking his head slightly to rid himself of those thoughts, Flavio focused his attention on Fafnir, his childhood friend who was sitting on a chair next to his bed. Although Fafnir’s expression remained impassive to an outsider, Flavio knew better. He was angry. Furious. Almost vengeful.

“Fafnir, no,” Flavio said.

“What do you mean no?” Fafnir returned, immediately knew what he was referring to. “Flavio, they-"

“I know exactly what they did, Fafnir,” Flavio said, cutting him off. “And I have absolutely no empathy for them whatsoever. It's...we've got more important things to think about.” He then reached out to weakly hit the middle of Fafnir’s chest with the back of his hand, his eyes softening. “Like, getting you back to normal.”

He knew what Fafnir wanted to do and he understood the desire to do so; Flavio would do the exact same thing if they had been reversed. Which was why he was saying no. Because Fafnir came first. After...after everything was over, after they had found the Overlord and defeated the Calamity, then they could go out in search of Ascott and his team, to find out what they were trying to do. And let Fafnir beat the shit out of them for nearly killing them all.

When they...returned to the Midgard Library together.

“And the kid is looking pale,” Bertrand suddenly said, quickly reminding Flavio that it wasn’t just him and Fafnir in the room and he flushed slightly. “We should continue this later.”

“Yes, of course,” Arianna immediately agreed. “You should rest now, Sir Flavio. We can speak more on this matter in the morning.”

Now that Bertrand mentioned it, he did feel rather drained and tired all of a sudden. The adrenaline of seeing that Fafnir and the others were safe and unharmed must have worn off.

“Appreciate it,” Flavio muttered as he tried to hold back a yawn.

“Make sure you get plenty of sleep,” Chloe went on to say as Bertrand ushered her and Arianna from the room. “If you feel dizzy, drink the medicine Mr Medic left behind, ok?”

“I’ll stay here tonight,” Fafnir said for reassurance.

The moment the door closed with a soft click, Fafnir shifted from the chair and sat on the bed next to Flavio. He then suddenly, but carefully, wrapped his arms around him. For a short moment, Flavio was startled, but he made no attempt to push the other away. How could he when the embrace was important to him as well? Instead, he wrapped his arms around Fafnir as well and pressed his face against his shoulder.

After a few minutes of silently embracing, Fafnir pulled back slight to gently touch the side of Flavio’s face with his hand, gazing straight into his eyes. “What did they do to you?” he asked, his voice strained, subtle anger just beneath the surface.

The anger wasn’t directed as him, though. It was directed toward the events that had happened, toward the people who put him through said events and by the fact that he…wasn’t able to prevent it all from happening.

“Nothing, really,” Flavio answered tiredly as he pressed his cheek against Fafnir’s palm, his eyes falling close. “Just starved me for about for a few hours for some reason. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” Fafnir questioned, wanting to believe him, but still protective regardless.

Flavio nodded his head. “That’s all.”

“You’d tell me if something did, right?”

Again, Flavio nodded. “Yeah.”

Unexpectedly, Fafnir’s arm around him tightened as he slipped his fingers of the hand that was pressed against his cheek through his hair. “Then care to explain why you’ve been looking so heartbroken lately?”

Flavio tensed and snapped his eyes open to stare at Fafnir is surprise. He then felt a distinct heated feeling spread across his cheeks. He was blushing. “W-what do you mean?” he feebly asked.

Fafnir kept his arms tight around him. “You think I wouldn’t notice?” he asked him in return, giving him a lightly exasperated look.

Flavio’s blush deepened, feeling foolish and skittish. He quickly glanced off to the side, trying to focus his gaze on something other than Fafnir himself. However, after a few silent moments of skittishly looking around, he sighed and then thumped his head against Fafnir’s shoulder. He didn’t have the energy or the will-power to deny him anymore.

“I’m scared,” Flavio murmured.

“Of what?” Fafnir asked as he pulled Flavio onto his lap, wrapping one arm around his shoulders to keep him close against his chest, the other over his legs, his fingers curling underneath his knee in order to keep him firmly, and safely, in place.

Resting his head against Fafnir’s shoulder, Flavio reached up to place his hand over Fafnir’s, the one that bore the Fafnir Knight marking, the one that was resting against his shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you. To anyone or anything. I…I can’t. Not again.”

Fafnir sighed before pressing his lips against the top of his head. “Just talk,” he said as he interlocked their fingers together. “Let it all out.”

Blinking back the tears that were already forming, Flavio just talked. He talked about whatever he could think of, about what he feared and hated, about what he hoped and prayed for – anything and everything. The curse of the Fafnir Knight, the Grail of Kings, the Calamity; it was too much. And that Blizzard King. There were just too many events into play that could take Fafnir away from him for good.

He almost lost him once. He couldn’t face it again.

And Fafnir listened. Even as Flavio exhausted himself, resting completely against him as he mumbled, tears rolling unimpeded down his cheeks.

“I don’t know what the future holds for us,” Fafnir said as he removed his hand from Flavio’s knee to slip a finger under his chin, gently tilting his head back so that he could look up at him. “I know one thing is certain, though.”

“Y-yeah?”

Fafnir didn’t say anything. He just leaned forward and…kissed him.

Flavio’s eyes widen in surprise when he realised that, yes, Fafnir had his lips against his. It wasn’t a dream, was it? No. Fafnir’s lips were honestly pressed softly against his, but he was sincerely, honestly, kissing him.

All too soon, though, he pulled away, leaving Flavio feeling somewhat winded. Dazedly, he gently touched his lips with his fingertips and stared at Fafnir in utter confusion. “B-but, I thought, I mean, Arianna and-”

Fafnir simply shook his head no.

“O-oh,” Flavio breathed as he lowered his hand from his lips, letting it rest against his chest. He felt…relieved, yet foolish. It was silly to think that Fafnir would simply leave him, after everything they’ve been through, right? “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

The corners of Fafnir’s mouth twitched, threatening to break out into a grin as he nodded his head yes.

“You didn’t need to agree to that, you jerk,” Flavio said with a light laugh, one that was half from amusement, the other from relief.

Reaching up, Flavio placed his hand against the curve of Fafnir’s neck, gently tugging him toward him wanting, needing for him to kiss him again. Fafnir readily obliged, leaning forward to press his lips against his once again. And Flavio pressed back, closing his eyes, allowing for his lips to move gently, instinctively, against Fafnir’s.

The Blizzard King. His kidnapping. That ritual. None of that mattered anymore.

The kiss only ended when Flavio pulled back, losing the battle against the urge to yawn, suddenly remembering how tired he felt. Keeping his arms around him, Fafnir lowered them both onto the bed, loosening his grip for only a moment in order to pull the blankets over the both of them.

“I love you,” Fafnir whispered to him as he laid down next to him.

Hearing those words made Flavio’s heart skip a beat out of pure happiness and he found himself blinking back the urge to shed a few tears. Instead he gently touched the side of Fafnir’s face and looked into his eyes. “I love you, too,” he returned.

Fafnir quickly pulled him into another somewhat lazy kiss before pulling back and settling against the bed, the two of them still weary from both the physical and emotional strain of their forced separation.

Closing his eyes, Flavio rested against Fafnir’s chest, listening to his heart beat, strong and true. He never imagined that he would find himself like this, in Fafnir’s arms, Fafnir holding him so tightly. Never dreamed that it would be possible.

“Whatever happens, whatever the future holds, I love you,” Fafnir murmured to him softly. “Nothing will change that.”

Flavio nodded his head with a smile on his lips as he snuggled closer. “Yeah. Me too.”

“You know,” Fafnir unexpectedly drawled. “When I get my hands on that bastard, I’m going to beat the living shit out of him, right?”

Flavio chuckled. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

… … … … …

Three days had passed since Flavio’s traumatic ordeal and he had spent the majority of that time recuperating at the inn. The after effects of hypothermia were more of a hindrance and annoyance than first thought. He felt achy and as if he was suffering from a cold. And tired. He had been assured, though, that there would be no lasting effects. He just needed to wait it out.

His teammates had taken this time to prepare for the next time they entered the labyrinth. Fafnir was, of course, figuratively attached to his side. Arianna was busying herself coming to and from the Regent Café, updating Regina on what was happening and returning with warm food for him to eat. Bertrand appeared to be loitering around the inn, but Flavio was certain that he was low-key looking for information on Ascott and his crew, working intermittently with Hrothgar as the red-haired protector was the one who had unwittingly retrieved the ransom note for them. And Chloe had taken up an interest in the many different types of environmental oddities that the labyrinth held, seemingly prompted by the talk she had with Mr Medic about hypothermia.

Speaking of Mr Medic, Lynus had popped by a couple of times to check up on him, pleased with his progress. Flavio found him extremely easy to speak to. He was sincerely nice and friendly as he first appeared. So much so that Flavio made the silent vow not to tell him that Ascott was first planning on using him for the ritual instead. Then again, telling the red-haired landsknecht that often accompanied Lynus around the town about Ascott would ensure that that asshole gunner never stepped foot inside of High Lagaard again.

Currently left to his own devices (Fafnir having slipped out real quick to visit the weapon shop for something), Flavio decided to go for a walk, to keep himself busy rather than lying around and remembering that…that towering dragon.

He had been allowed to walk around the inn by himself. But stepping outside was another matter. Fafnir had always been protective of him and after that ordeal, he had only gotten worst. Not to say that Flavio was annoyed by it. Honestly, Fafnir fussing over him was actually something he enjoyed.

“Ah, Flavio sweetie, going for a walk?”

Upon hearing Hanna’s voice, Flavio smiled and turned his attention to the inn-keeper, nodding his head slightly at her question. “Just getting the ol’ joints moving again.”

Hanna nodded her head in understanding before an expression of realisation appeared on her face and she placed her hand into the pocket of her apron. “Oh, that’s right, there’s a letter for you,” she said as she pulled out a white envelope.

“A letter?” Flavio muttered, somewhat surprised as he retrieved the letter from Hanna.

From the Midgard Library, perhaps? Who else would be sending him letter?

Thanking the inn keeper, Flavio continued with his mindless stroll as he turned his attention upon the letter. The envelope was thin and rather small. He didn’t recognise the handwriting and there was no return address. Still, he opened it.

And immediately felt a cold chill race down his spine as he read the greeting at the very top of the letter.

_Hey, Beautiful._

Reading those words, Flavio immediately had the urge to crumble the letter up into a tight ball and then burn it. His heartrate had rapidly increased and he felt skittish, as if he was being watched. Ascott called him that. He referred to him as if it was his name. He should destroy it. He didn’t want that bastard to taunt him further.

But, for some reason, he kept reading, his eyes skirting over the words quickly.

_Just sending you a letter to thank you for your co-operation_.

Flavio could sense the patronizing, sarcastic tone through the letter easily and he physically bristled. Bastard.

_Now, before you or that guard dog of yours crumble this letter up in a vow of bloody vengeance, let me ask you one quick question._

_What lengths would you go to; to save the one you love?_

_Think about it._

_Kind regards,_

_Ascott._

The anger mixed with fear unexpectedly subsided slightly and Flavio allowed a feeling of confusion to wash over him. The letter was short, the words scribbled seemingly hastily. It was a taunt. Pure and simple. And yet…

Still feeling annoyed, Flavio crumbled the letter in his hands as he walked toward the tea room where a roaring fire was warding off the evening chill. He stood in front of the fire place, unexpectedly hesitating for a moment before throwing the crumpled note into the flames.

He was fairly certain that Ascott was just messing with him. Sending him one (hopefully) last letter just to mess with his head. However, that question…It was surprisingly chilling. Was that…was that his motive? Was he going to such extremes for someone he and those with him cared deeply for? Or was he just being a dick?

… _What lengths would you go to; to save the one you love?_

That jerk. How could he ask him that?

…What lengths _wouldn’t_ he go to for the one he loved?

Flavio was startled from his thoughts when a pair of strong arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling him against a taut chest. He soon relaxed, though, when he recognised the embrace and leaned back into it, unwittingly releasing a sigh of relief past his lips.

“Flavio?” Fafnir murmured as he pressed his lips against the side of Flavio’s head. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, Faf,” Flavio said as he curled into Fafnir’s arms, leaning against his chest to find protection and security. “It’s nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It also appears that I am incredibly bias toward Lynus. I will slip a small reference of him in any chaptered fic I do in this fandom, it seems. Pfft, I totally want to write a oneshot with Flavio and Lynus interacting now.


End file.
